Keep Your Eyes Open
by Love-Kisses-And-Fairy-Wishes
Summary: "You never know if your going to live or die, your next hour could be your last and you've just got to do things while you still can," I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head. "You've got to keep your eyes open," Glimmer/Cato T for language!


**Well, hello everyone…my name is Audrey Lane but you can just call me Audrey. This is my first Fanfiction story ever and I have to say that I am super excited to see if anyone is going to read it. It would be great to have some feedback. Good and Bad reviews are always appreciated because then I can figure it out how I can make the story better.  
Please consider reading this story. It would mean the world to me.  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games, that would be Suzanne Collins the amazing woman who invented the wonderful series!  
xoxox from Audrey!**

Chapter One: Everybody's waiting

I opened my eyes to the sun streaming in through the crack in my closed curtains, casting a golden light on my wooden floor. I could hear Smolder bustling around downstairs, probably trying to make breakfast again. My older brother was never the best of cooks, but I knew he had woken up again from the nightmares, the ones about the Hunger Games. All victors did I suppose.  
I yawned and stretched my arms above my head, banging them into the headboard. Cursing quietly I pushed back the covers and plonked my feet on the cold ground.  
Walking towards the bathroom I absentmindedly ran my fingers through my curly blonde hair, pushing a few wispy strands out of my eyes.  
Without looking at the calendar I knew what day it was today. My stomach was clenched uncomfortably with dread and my heart was beating quickly. It was the day I had dreaded ever since my older brother volunteered for the Hunger Games.

Reaping Day.

I hadn't thought much of the Hunger Games when I was eleven. I wasn't eligible yet and I hadn't even begun training yet. My brother, Smolder had just turned eighteen and he was my hero. So strong and smart, and he loved me like I was his own. I remember being closer to him then my parents were with both of us. We were practically inseparable and it didn't seem to bother his friends that he would rather spend time with his younger sister than with them.  
I remember heading off to yet another reaping day and sitting on my dad's broad shoulders trying to see Smolder's familiar handsome face. I remember how ridiculous Merce (our escort) had looked that year, ridiculous blue wig and puffy yellow dress. I remembered laughing.  
This reaping day was the last that Smolder would ever have and I remember feeling so grateful for the fact that he wasn't going into the Games and he wasn't going to leave me on my own. I thought everything was going to be alright. But how wrong I was.  
Merce called out the girl tributes name and almost immediately there were three volunteers. One girl stuck in my mind for the rest of that year, it was Smolder's girlfriend, Shimmer whose name was so similar to my own. She punched out the other two volunteers and then strutted up to the stage like she owned the place. Shimmer was beautiful of course. Tall, blonde and she had blue eyes like my brother. She was wearing a pretty purple dress and a huge smile was plastered on her face. She looked proud of herself. Speaking into the microphone she practically sang out to District One, "My name is Shimmer and I volunteer for the 69th Hunger Games!" the applause was mind blowing, so many people thought she was going to win and for a single second I felt sorry for the boy tribute, he was going to have a tough time beating her. Shimmer was a legendary knife thrower, she never missed. But that's when it happened. Merce shuffled over to the bowl holding all the boys names in her monstrous high heels and picked a piece of paper out. Striding back to the microphone she read the name, "Mirage Mason," I practically had a heart attack. Mirage was my best friend. He had just turned twelve and was eligible for the reaping, this was his first year and he had been chosen. I saw him walking up to the stage, a surprisingly brave expression on his face. Of course there were volunteers. It was worse with the boys, twenty of them were fighting it out but one boy slipped up to the stage unnoticed and Merce handed him the microphone to speak his name. "My name is Smolder Reed and I volunteer for the 69th Hunger Games,"

That was the worst day of my life. I admit when my father left for District Ten, it was a close second. But I was so scared that entire year. I was glued to the television, watching Smolder every second I could. Hoping and praying for him to come back to me. He and Shimmer had decided to break up, knowing that they wouldn't want to be seen as weaklings in the Games. Smolder was the leader of the Career pack, overpowering the male from District Two.  
I remember throwing up after the bloodbath ended and he was still alive. I remember screaming and crying when Shimmer tried to kill the male from District Four and he decapitated her right in front of Smolder who did nothing to stop him.  
I remember being afraid of him then, of the feral glint in his eyes. I was afraid that if he came back he wouldn't be my brother anymore. He wouldn't be Smolder, he would be possessed and crazy. That night I dreamt of him killing me. Chopping my head off with one of his swords. It scared the living daylights out of me and I sometimes still had it.

He came home though. At night he climbed to the top of the cornucopia and chucked spears at his team mates. The cannon boom had woken them up and he had impaled them before they could grab their weapons. There was only three left then and he hunted them down and finished them off. I remember hugging my mum as hard as I could when I realised he was coming home. She had cried for a long time that day. Dad wasn't there to comfort her though, he was away doing his Peacekeeper duties.

We went to visit him in his house at the victor's village. He had been sitting on the couch staring at the wall. His eyes were red rimmed and he looked haunted but as soon as he saw me he had leapt forward and wrapped his arms around me in a death grip. I had screamed, remembering the dream but relaxed when I realised it was just a hug. He had cried as well. And that's when I knew everything was going to be alright.

When I turned twelve I moved in with him. He was better now. Only having nightmares but other than that acting like a normal human being. He and his old mates didn't keep in touch much and he only dated occasionally. I remember each of their names clearly. A brunette girl named Porscha, a tawny haired girl named Sylvie and a blonde haired girl with freckles on her nose named Sasha. She was by far my favourite. She came over often and cooked for me. Making biscuits and cakes and little delicacies I didn't know the name of. I thought she was wonderful. I thought that she and my brother were going to get married and there were even the few months when she moved in with us. But one day she packed up and left, kissed me on the cheek, gave me a book full of recipes and walked out the door. I asked Smolder what happened but he just shrugged and walked back up the stairs to his room. I never understood what happened. Never wanted too.

My mum was handling things well. She lived in an apartment above her jewellery store. She was making a great profit off of her creations and was very well known in our District and in the Capitol. I tried my hand at making rings one day and my only finished product ended up being chucked out the window. It later started a whole new line of Jewellery that my mother specifically named after me, Glimmer.

I stepped cautiously out of my bedroom and headed for the bathroom. A shower seemed absolutely lovely right now and I needed some warmth. I froze for a moment when I heard a loud smash but relaxed when I heard Smolder's swearing. Whoever taught him those words should go to jail. Swearing wasn't a very attractive quality and more than often I found myself repeating some of his words.

I stripped off my pyjamas and stepped into the cubicle, twisting the knobs until the water was going at a nice temperature. Whilst I scrubbed myself down I thought of Mirage. The little boy and my best friend who was reaped when he was twelve. He was a grown man now, had just turned nineteen and didn't have his name in the reaping anymore. He lived in town with his girlfriend, Jewel who was almost equally as pretty as me. When we were fifteen and sixteen Mirage and I had dated for a whole year. I thought I was in love with him but then one day he insulted me deeply and I had run away from him, leaving our relationship in the gutter. If he was going to be mean he could shove his love up you know where.  
We now had a close friendship that I cherished thoroughly. He was always there for me and he was ever thankful to Smolder for volunteering in his place.

I squeezed the bottle of flower scented shampoo into my hand and coated my blonde hair in it, making sure to get every single strand. Then tipping my head back I washed it all out and watched as the foam went down the drain. Then doing the same thing with the conditioner,  
I stood there for a few minutes. Letting the water wash over my body, the warm water caressing my flawless, creamy skin.

"Glimmer! You going to hurry up?" Smolder was one of the loudest people I knew and I swear if he knew how to sing he could become an opera singer. But seriously, couldn't I just take a shower in peace.

Despite being seriously annoyed I twisted the knobs, stopping the water flow. Sliding the glass door, I stepped out onto the water proof mat and grabbed a towel from the top of the counter. It was white and insanely fluffy and after sniffing it, smelled like one of favourite types of flowers: roses. I should know, I did all the washing in this house anyway. Smolder was too incompetent to do anything but sweep, dust and lift heavy things when I needed him too. But he was almost the ideal brother.

After wrapping myself in the towel I moved back towards my bedroom shutting the door firmly behind me. Moving towards the closet where my special dress was. My new reaping dress. I had bought it a few weeks ago from my mother's friend who was a seamstress. She made beautiful dresses that everyone loved and I was lucky enough to buy one of her originals. Reaching inside I carefully took the dress off its hanger and holding it away from me to admire it. It was a beautiful, beautiful dress. But I wish I didn't have to buy it. I already had hundreds of beautiful dresses and I could have chosen to wear any of them. But like I said, this year was special. Special because I had been chosen to volunteer for the 74th Hunger Games.

I put on some new underwear and then stepped into the dress. I felt the press of silky fabric slide onto my body and then scrambled to do up the zip. The dress looks good on me, a dull rose pink colour and a rosy red that goes down to my ankles, pearls dotted around the waist line and on the two finger wide straps. It's frilly in a way, layers of the fabric delicately going down, and it sparkled ever so slightly, almost glimmering when I moved. It being sleeveless, showed off my thin but muscular arms and my curvy, sexy body. My face is clear of make-up, my cheeks naturally rosy and my emerald green eyes are wide and innocent, eyelashes dark and thick. My nose is the perfect size for my face, high cheekbones, cupids bow shaped mouth.

I'm beautiful. I'm not vain, it's just the truth. Golden blonde curls, emerald green eyes, a slender figure that's curvy in all the right places…..the blessings of a good gene pool, that's all. But unlike my peers and closest friends I often wish I had been born plainer looking. Being beautiful seems more like a curse than a gift most days. It makes me have to be that much faster, work that much harder, fight more viciously and cleverly in order to be taken seriously.

_You have to be vicious to survive._

I hear Smolder stomping up the stairs, interrupting my inner monologue and I quickly run out of the room, grabbing my matching high heels that have pretty light pink pearls embedded in the heels.

"Glimmer! We're going to miss the reaping,"  
In District One and Two and sometimes Four the reaping's start at 8:00am because of how excited we get. It takes around five hours to get through it all with the amount of noise that the Districts make and sometimes, the parents stuff cotton wool in their ears. Teenagers aren't so lucky.

"Coming Smolder," my voice sounds too high, I'm not nervous though. Being a volunteer is an amazing honour and I hold it very highly, I am proud to represent my district but I can't help but worry. What if I don't come back to my family? What if I died?  
I brushed the thoughts out of my head and continued on my way.

Smolder and I walked hand in hand to the main square. We still had the close sibling bond and I was glad that we did. Some of the time it seemed like Smolder was my best friend. But other times I wanted to punch him in the face for some of the sly things he said to me.

The square was already packed when we got there. I could see my friends lining up to get their fingers pricked, all of them dressed up in gossamer gowns that look like they were meant for prom. They all look excited, jumping around and messing around with one another's dresses. I see one of them, Linen wave at me and the others are alerted to my presence. They wave me over with enormous smiles on their faces.  
I smile back, kiss Smolder on the cheek and walk away from him. As soon as I let go of my brother's hand I instantly feel colder. Like he was the heat keeping me together. I look back over my shoulder at him but he's already walking up to the side of the stage where the victors sit, not looking back once.

Sighing I continue on my path, dodging a group of catcalling boys, slapping away a hand that found its way onto my hip. I swear to God!

"Glimmer!" Emerald is the complete opposite of me in every way. She's short, with tanned skin, blue eyes, straight brown hair and her preferred weapon is spears. When you describe her you might think she is ugly but she's not, she's as beautiful as the next girl, in her own special way she shines, she glimmers.  
"Hey Em," I make a point of hugging her as hard as I can because I can see her hands shaking. She's terrified of being picked, despite being a Career and the absoluteness of someone volunteering for her. Emerald's only sixteen.  
"I love your dress!" she squeals, grabbing my hand and twirling me around. I giggle lightly and before I can thank her or compliment her own moss green dress that suits her eyes the others come over.  
"Glimmer!" "Oh God I'm so jealous where did you get that dress?" "Oh look at her shoes!" "Marvel is going to die when he sees you!"  
One comment pulls me up short. Marvel Moran is probably one of the hottest guys in our District and he knows it. He's tall with good, solid muscles and is absolutely deadly with a spear and in hand-to-hand combat. All of my friends are completely and utterly besotted with him. All of them accept me. Marvel was not my friend and I do my best to make sure I never talk to him. Something about him, maybe it's the blood thirst I see in his eyes when he fights, the rude persona that will surely get him killed someday, all the things that draw the girls in drove me away. In short, he just wasn't my type.

"I don't think so, I mean just look at you guys, you look stunning!" That gets them talking again.

Brushing past them I smile at the few boys that at the front of the line and they decide to so _generously _let me cut the queue. The Peacekeeper doesn't notice and as quickly as I tell her my name she pricks my finger and dabs it on the piece of paper, I let out a little squeak of surprise and reach my finger up to stick it in my mouth. As I walk towards the sectioned off area for seventeen year old girls I hear a deep, rough chuckle coming from my right. I turn my head and wish I hadn't. Marvel Moran stands tall looking quite handsome in his button down shirt, dress pants and shiny black shoes, smirking and chuckling at the same time, eyes locked on my own. I glare at him, twist on my heel and stalk away. If it's possible his chuckle gets louder and even more haunting. What a creep!

Emerald, Linen and Gemma slide through the crowd and stand as close to me as possible, gripping my hands tightly in their shaking ones. I don't know if it's from excitement or from fear. They don't know I'm volunteering this year. Nobody does, that's why everyone's going to be so surprised when they see the beautiful blonde stepping up to the stage to volunteer her name.

The crowd goes wild as our Districts escort, Merce Ashley steps walks onto the stage, closely followed by the mayor and the two mentors for this year, Cashmere and Gloss. Both of them won their games when they were seventeen and they were both now only a young age of twenty five, but they harboured enough experience that I didn't have any worries about having a bad mentor.  
She's fresh from the Capitol, with natural white skin, a ridiculous pile of yellow curls on top of her head and an actually alright pink dress. Her heels are monstrous, with diamonds embedded in the heels, much like mine. She has two tattoos on her face. Under her eyes, they're golden and swirl around, drawing flowers and butterflies on her high cheekbones. She is actually alright looking, unlike some of the other District Escorts that look like they should be 'escorted' straight into the loony bin.  
I watch as she steps up to the microphone, taking tiny steps (due to the tightness of her dress), taps it twice and then says her signature line.  
"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favour," her curls are bouncing all over the place and I now notice the little diamonds that are somehow sewn into her hair, shining when the golden sunlight hits them. The crowd's response is mind blowingly loud and I resist bringing my hands up to my ears. I see Smolder in his chair, sitting next to another victor, a twenty- two year old woman named Sapphire. She won the games before Smolder and was his mentor. Now that I think about it they would make a good couple.  
The mayor then steps forward to read the Treaty of Treason and we watch the short film clip on the big screens like we do every year. I don't know why they still play it. The crowds screaming makes it too hard to hear President Snow's voice narrating the damn thing.  
Merce steps back up to the microphone and with a smile on her face, revealing her sparkling white teeth she trills, "Ladies first!" and crosses to the glass bowl with the girls' names. She reaches in, digs her hand deep into the bowl and pulls out a slip of paper. She grins as she holds it out and District One's community goes absolutely nuts.  
Merce Ashley crosses back to the podium, smooths the slip of paper open and reads the name. The crowd quietens down and she almost sings the name into the mic  
"Jewel Minx,"

I almost choke on my air. Jewel is Emerald's little sister. Twelve years old and this is her first year of reaping's. I see her little dark head walking towards the stage, fists clenched by her sides and I know that she's hoping with all her might for a volunteer. I plaster a dazzling smile on my face and raise my hand.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

suddenly people are roaring with excitement and I can see Jewel's tightly wound shoulders slump with relief as I pass her. I pat her back slightly, pushing her back towards her spot in the roped off area for twelve year olds. People who know me are chanting my name and a few of the boys that are at the Career Training Facility have their mouths wide open. I have an overwhelming sensation to slap them to get them to show me some respect. I just volunteered for the Hunger Games. They could at least show me some respect!

"Well well, a volunteer, and a beautiful one too! Come on up dear," Merce held out her hand to me and I took it, her hands were soft, softer than mine even. She led me up to the podium and stuck the microphone right in my face.

"What's your name dear?"

"My name is Glimmer Reed and I volunteer for the 74th Hunger Games,"

**First chapter done and dusted!  
I feel very accomplished and honoured to know that if you're reading this note at the bottom then you must have read my story! I feel absolutely fantastic because I have finished the first chapter!  
Thank-You for spending a few minutes of your life reading my work, I hope you loved it!  
xoxox Love From Audrey Paino **


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